


A Father Always Knows

by thefruitsofmysoul



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Angst, F/F, Family, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:11:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefruitsofmysoul/pseuds/thefruitsofmysoul
Summary: Five times Peter Hastings suspected that Melissa liked Charlotte DiLaurentis, and the one time that he was certain she was in love with her.





	1. Bucks County

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this fic, with the exception of the last two chapters, takes place before Charlotte's transition.

Peter remembered having to encourage his elder daughter, Melissa, to play with children her own age. At six-years-old, Melissa was brighter than most children her age, choosing to read encyclopedias and novels instead of “baggie books” at school. As such, the young Hastings didn’t really make much time for socializing with other children.

 _“The other children didn’t want to read with me.”_ Melissa would say anytime Peter would pick her up from school. He’d arrive at Rosewood Elementary just in time to see Melissa finish the last page of a rather lengthy book she’d been reading, _“They went to play with each other while waiting to be picked up.”_

 _“I prefer to play by myself.”_ Melissa would say anytime Peter brought her to the park. He’d observe her playing on the monkey bars by herself, using the slide with quiet enthusiasm while the other children in the park played in the sand, _“All the kids my age just wanna play in the sand and get dirty. They’re so uncouth.”_

Peter didn’t especially mind Melissa’s borderline antisocial behavior. If being alone was what made her happy, then he was all for it. Of course, his wife, Veronica, thought otherwise.

“She needs to socialize with children her own age, Peter. That’s how she’ll develop proper people skills.” Veronica told him bright one Saturday morning as she was preparing breakfast for the family. Though she was heavily pregnant with the couple’s second child, she still insisted on being very active, “We’re taking her to the Bucks County Children Museum.”

Peter opened his mouth to disagree, but the look Veronica gave him stopped him in his tracks. He knew better than to argue with his wife when she gave him _that_ look.

It was with a slightly heavy heart that he made his way up the stairs to Melissa’s room, knocking twice before entering. As expected, Melissa was sitting pretzel style on her bed, the sixth _Harry Potter_ book in hand. As Peter entered the room, Melissa neatly placed a bookmark on her page, giving her father her full attention.

“I’m almost done with the _Half-Blood Prince_.” Melissa announced eagerly, the excited glint in her dark brown eyes ( _Veronica’s eyes_ ) making Peter smile at her fondly, “Can you please buy me the next book when I’m done?”

Peter wasn’t one to actively seek to disappoint his daughter, but nevertheless, he sighed.

“Why don’t you get ready, and we can talk about that in the car?” Peter tried to make his smile comforting, but obviously failed, as Melissa’s eyes widened.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, no.” Peter shook his head, “Your mother –”

He paused.

“You mother _and I_ think we should go to the museum today.” Peter finished, “We think it’ll be a fun expe –”

“You both just want me to make friends, don’t you?” Melissa asked quietly, “Because you think it’s bad that I don’t have any?”

Peter’s heart broke at his daughter’s despondent tone, and he immediately sat down next to her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her direct eye contact.

“There’s _nothing_ wrong with not having friends.” To Peter’s own ears, that sounded pathetic, so he tried a different approach, “Look. Don’t you want to have someone to share your books with? To share inside jokes with?”

Melissa only stared at him, her eyes slightly narrowed, and Peter wondered when he’d gotten so bad at understanding the women in his life. After a while, she let out a soft sigh, and Peter knew that he had made some progress.

“ _Deathly Hallows_ by Tuesday and I’ll go to this museum without a struggle.”

Peter let out a loud laugh, pleased to see his daughter wearing a light-hearted smile. Her eyes were shining in what could only be described as youthful mirth, and he felt relief engulf him in waves.

“Deal.” Peter made to get up, moving to leave the room, “I’ll just leave you to get ready.”

Before Peter could move more than three steps away, a soft whisper caught his attention.

“Daddy?”

Peter stopped and turned around, noting the quiet look of concern on Melissa’s face. He stepped towards her once more and knelt down, taking both of her hands in his larger one.

“Yes pumpkin?”

Melissa held onto Peter’s hand tightly, something she only ever did when she was nervous.

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.” Peter’s answer was immediate.

“Promise me,” Melissa continued, “that you’ll always be my friend too.”

Peter’s heart warmed and he gave Melissa the smile that he only reserved for her.

“I promise.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Melissa’s head, moving away, “We’re leaving in another hour. Start getting ready.”

* * *

Peter lamented not being able to spend the day with Melissa at the museum, but the work he had to finish at the office beckoned to him. Veronica graciously kept him updated on Melissa’s activities at the museum, so he didn’t have to feel entirely left out.

“She’s doing really well.” Veronica enthused, “I think she made a friend too.”

Veronica paused abruptly, the hesitation causing Peter to frown as he signed one of the many legal documents that required his signature.

“What is it Ronnie?” Peter knew that the old nickname would get Veronica to open up, and he was proven right by the deep sigh that Veronica let out.

“He’s Jessica’s son.”

Peter froze for a moment before he shook his head, thoughts racing through his head. He had always known that there was a possibility that Jessica would move to Rosewood, but he didn’t think he’d have to face that fact so soon.

“Peter?” Veronica’s voice brought him out of his reverie, “Are you still –”

“Yes, I’m here.” Peter cleared his throat, “I’ll talk to Melissa when I get home.”

* * *

“Daddy!”

Peter grinned widely as he caught his daughter, who launched herself into his arms as soon as he stepped through the door. She wrapped her arms tightly around Peter’s neck as he playfully spun her around, giggling merrily at the attention.

“Did you enjoy your time at the museum today?” Peter already knew the answer by the excited look Melissa gave him.

“It was amazing!” she beamed, grabbing her father by the hand and pulling him over to the kitchen area, “I made a new friend. His name is Charlie and –”

“Slow down there.” Peter said, his tone laced with levity as he lifted Melissa onto the kitchen counter, “You met a _boy_? Unacceptable.”

Melissa gawked at him, slapping his shoulder as she shook her head fervently.

“Daddy, it’s not like that.” Melissa insisted, though the slight reddening of her cheeks indicated otherwise, “He’s just so nice and sweet and smart and –”

Melissa paused, taking note of the amused look on her father’s face, huffing indignantly.

“I don’t _like, like_ him.” Melissa declared, “Honest!”

At seeing Peter’s unrelenting smile (the smile that parents wore while playing with their children’s emotions), Melissa jumped off of the counter and crossed her arms with a frown, turning on her heel.

“ _Deathly Hallows_. Tuesday.” Her voice echoed as she made her way to her room.

As Melissa’s footsteps dissipated, the smile fell slightly from Peter’s face.

 _Charlie_.

Peter had known that Jessica had a son named _Charles_ during the time that they had… _spent together_ while Veronica was pregnant, but he hadn’t expected their children to ever meet. He couldn’t decipher whether or not he was happy with this development, but as he remembered the happiness that shone in Melissa’s eyes as she spoke about her new friend _Charlie_ , he couldn’t bring himself to be too worried.

Though Melissa was only six, Peter couldn’t help but think the whole situation cute. She may not know it yet, but Peter had a hunch that she was experiencing her first crush.

 


	2. Babysitting

Looking back, Peter realized that there weren’t many instances in which Jessica DiLaurentis reached out to him, unless she wanted something in return. She hadn’t explicitly contacted him since a month after she moved back to Rosewood ( _to implore him not to reveal the nature of their affair to her husband, Kenneth_ ), so when she appeared on his doorstep one Friday afternoon, he couldn’t say that he was expecting it.

As he opened the door, Peter took in Jessica’s appearance. Wavy blonde hair, sapphire eyes, and a cockiness in her countenance, it was as if the years since he had last seen her hadn’t aged her a bit. That is, except for the slight bags under her eyes. Something was troubling her, and Peter was unsure if he really wanted to get himself involved.

“Jessica.” Peter’s initial gruff tone was made less harsh as he noticed a young boy by Jessica’s side, staring up at him in childlike curiosity, “Something tells me you’re not here for good old fashioned neighborly fun.”

Jessica rolled her eyes at Peter’s sarcasm, pushing the young boy forward slightly.

“This is Charlie.” She said simply, “I need you to watch him for me.”

The undignified sound that left Peter’s lips startled the young boy, causing him to retreat slightly behind his mother. Peter had the grace to give the boy a small smile before turning back to Jessica.

“You want _me_ to watch _your_ son?” Peter tried not to make his tone accusatory, well aware of how the young boy was still looking up at him wearily, “Jessica, I don’t think that’s a very good –”

“Charlie needed a change in scenery.” Jessica interjected, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders in an effort to get him to stop hiding, “Kenneth took Ali and Jason to the park, and I just thought that a different environment would be…good for him.”

It was evident by the explanation Jessica gave that there was more to the story than that. Had Peter been a different person, he would’ve invited her into his home, asked her what the whole truth was, but the fact of the matter was that he _wasn’t_ a different person, and the times when he was amicable with Jessica were long gone.

“Jessica –” Peter sighed before Jessica cut him off once more.

“ _Please_ , Peter.”

Peter sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mulled it over. Before he could give Jessica a solid answer, the sound of Melissa’s voice completely derailed his train of thought.

“Charlie!”

The sound of Melissa’s rapid footsteps prompted Peter to open his eyes, just in time to see Melissa snake herself around him to hug Charlie. The young boy looked relieved and, no longer hiding behind Jessica, hugged Melissa tightly in return.

“I missed you.” Peter could barely make out Melissa’s voice, muffled by the fabric of Charlie’s shirt.

As Peter watched the two children hug, a feeling of fondness tugged at his heartstrings. How could he say _no_ after that?

It appeared that Jessica had the same thought, as she gave Peter a somewhat self-satisfied smirk as the two children pulled back from their hug.

“I’ll be back for you later, Charlie.” Jessica leaned down to hug Charlie, her eyes softening as the young boy hugged her back, “Be good for Mr. Peter, and remember… _I’ll always love you_.”

As Charlie pulled back, Peter noticed a smile, albeit a sad one, on the boy’s face.

“I love you more mommy.”

Peter swore that Jessica’s eyes watered at her son’s declaration, but as she blinked, the slight sparkle to her dark blue eyes disappeared.

“Thank you, Peter.” Jessica cleared her throat as she went back the way she came, down the street, to the left, and around the corner.

It didn’t dawn on Peter until Jessica left that he’d never actually agreed to watch her son, but as he noticed the happy glint in Melissa’s eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Daddy.” Melissa’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, “This is my friend Charlie from the museum.”

She turned to Charlie.

“Charlie, this is Daddy.”

Though the children had long since stopped hugging, Peter was aware of the way Melissa was holding Charlie’s hand, as if she were afraid that he’d disappear the second she let go of him.

With his free hand, Charlie reached out to shake Peter’s hand, an action that Peter found highly polite.

“It’s good to finally meet you…Mr. Daddy.”

Peter chuckled a bit at the boy’s humor. It wasn’t every day that he met a person Melissa’s age who had a sense of wit.

“That’s _Mr. Peter_ to you.” Peter joked, shaking Charlie’s hand as he ushered the two children into the house, closing the door behind him, “I’ve got quite a bit of work to do myself, but the two of you are free to watch some television.”

Peter wasn’t prepared for the look of shock on Charlie’s face. It seemed that Melissa wasn’t either, as she turned to her friend in concern.

“What’s wrong, Charlie?” Melissa asked gently. Peter didn’t think he’d ever heard his daughter speak in such a tender tone.

Charlie’s only answer was to launch himself into Peter’s arms. Peter blinked in surprise, but wrapped his arms around the young boy, patting his back softly. Less than half a minute passed before Charlie pulled back, a bright grin on his face mirrored by the glimmer in his gray-blue eyes.

“My father _never_ lets me watch television.” Charlie admitted, “He thinks it’s too liberal, thinks it’s why I’m so –”

Charlie hesitated, his grin faltering before Melissa squeezed his hand in support.

“Different.” Charlie finished quietly.

A part of Peter wanted to ask what Charlie meant by _different_ , but the other part – the more paternal part – of Peter kept his mouth shut. All that mattered to him was that everyone felt comfortable, and it was obvious that the idea of Kenneth DiLaurentis did nothing but make Charlie feel unnerved.

“Well.” Peter plastered a warm smile on his face, placing a hand on each child’s shoulder as he steered them towards the living room, “ _I’m_ not your father, but if it helps, I think different is good.”

The genuine smile Charlie gave Peter in return made him feel as if he’d said the right thing.

“Thanks, Mr. Peter.”

With that, Peter left the children in the living room and made his way to his study, keeping the door ajar so he’d be able to keep an ear open in case the children needed him.

* * *

After a while, Peter noticed that the house seemed quiet, too quiet for a television to possibly be on.

Leaving his work on his desk, Peter leisurely walked to the living room, raising an eyebrow questioningly as both Charlie and Melissa looked at him sheepishly. To Peter’s surprise, the television was, in fact, on, but paused on the tv listing channel.

“We couldn’t figure out what to watch.” Melissa answered Peter’s unasked question, “Most of the shows are either too elementary, or adult.”

“We _tried_ to look at the adult shows, because the other shows were too childish.” Charlie chipped in, “But it said you’d have to pay for them. Why would you have to pay for –”

“Let me see that remote.” Peter interrupted. Images flashed through his mind of what Veronica would do to him if Melissa ever gained access to the _adult_ channels, and none of them were pretty, “I’m sure there’s _something_ suitable for the two of you to watch.”

Peter scrolled through the channel swiftly, frowning as everything either seemed to be too mature for six-year-olds, or too babyish.

“What about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?” Peter suggested as he clicked on the channel entitled _Nickelodeon_ , “That ought to be fun, right?”

Charlie and Melissa looked at one another, heads titled in concentration. Peter figured that the two were engaging in some silent form of communication. Before he could repeat his question, Charlie turned to him, smiling.

“Thanks, Mr. Peter.”

Thanks, Daddy.” Melissa echoed, leaning back into the couch as the beginning credits for the show appeared, “You can go back to work now.”

Peter rolled his eyes at his daughter’s eagerness to get rid of him, giving the remote to her as he retreated once more to his study.

* * *

Stifling a yawn, Peter finished signing the last of his legal documents, rubbing his eyes gingerly as he stretched. Working as a lawyer was often very tiring, but he’d do just about anything to provide a comfortable life for his family.

Standing up, Peter walked slowly to the living room, ready to ask Charlie and Melissa if they wanted anything to eat. What he saw gave him pause.

The children were still sitting on the couch, only instead of them watching the television, the television was watching them. Both children, fast asleep, were cuddled into one another – Melissa with her legs tucked to the side of her as she rested her head on Charlie’s shoulder, and Charlie with an arm around Melissa. Peter couldn’t recall ever seeing Melissa so… _comfortable_ with anyone outside of their small family.

A smile tugged at the corners of Peter’s mouth, and he left the room momentarily to grab a blanket, placing it upon both children as he returned. At the feeling of something being placed on top of him, Charlie jolted awake, blinking rapidly in an attempt to fully wake up. His eyes eventually focused on Peter, who gave him a knowing smile.

“I didn’t mean to fall asl –” Charlie started before Peter waved away his concerns.

“Don’t be sorry, Charlie.” Peter said kindly.

Charlie opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, when Melissa shifted slightly in her sleep, sitting up a bit.

“Charlie?” Her voice was groggy as she bit back a yawn.

Charlie looked up at Peter once more before giving his full attention to Melissa, causing a smile to appear on Peter’s face as he left to go to the kitchen, preparing a few sandwiches for the children.

Left to his own muses, he could see why Melissa was so eager to talk about her friend Charlie upon arriving home from the museum trip two Saturdays ago. Though not too keen on the idea of his daughter growing up, Peter noted to himself that if Melissa were to bring Charlie home as her significant other, many ( _many_ ) years in the future, he would spare the young man the horror of seeing his gun collection. Any person who could make his daughter so at ease was welcome in Peter’s family. He just hoped that Melissa kept her fondness for Charlie as the years passed.


	3. Radley

Peter Hastings was no fool. When Melissa came home on Halloween night of her junior year at Rosewood High, he knew immediately that she hadn’t gone to the Halloween bash that the high school was keeping. How did he know? Calling Rosewood High and speaking to Principal Hackett was one. The man, who he’d gone to school with, expressed confusion when Peter called to check up on his daughter, who Hackett hadn’t seen since school hours earlier that day. Secondly was Ezra Fitzgerald – Diane’s son – who had dropped her off. Normally, Peter wouldn’t have paid much attention to the boy – he wasn’t in Melissa’s league anyways – but Peter couldn’t help but notice the guilty looks that Ezra kept giving Melissa. Something had happened between the two, and it wasn’t until Ezra left – bidding both Peter and Melissa goodnight – that Peter questioned Melissa on it.

“What was that about?”

Melissa’s features were blank, and of all the things that she could’ve inherited from Peter, it just _had_ to be his poker face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It wasn’t often, if ever, that Melissa lied to him, but Peter knew instantly that this was one of those times.

“Those looks that Ezra was giving you.” Peter crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at his older daughter, “What happened between the two of you tonight?”

Melissa pursed her lips.

“ _Nothing_.” She said quietly, “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him anyways.”

Peter was about to ask her what she was talking about when his phone rang. Melissa made to go to her room, but Peter raised a hand to stop her.

“We’re not done here.”

Peter checked his caller ID and raised a brow at the name – Eddie Lamb. He hadn’t heard from Eddie since they were seniors at UPenn, Eddie going the medical route and Peter looking into law schools.

“Eddie, it’s been a while.” Peter cut to the chase, “Why’re you calling?”

He could hear Eddie sigh on the other line.

“Did I ever tell you I work at a sanitarium now?” Eddie asked him, “ _Radley_ Sanitarium?”

“I don’t know why you’re telling –” Peter started before Eddie cut him off.

“I saw your daughter today.” Eddie said abruptly, “I know that sounds crazy, but she looks _just like Veronica_. She was with Diane’s son. Said they just wanted shelter from the cold, but I know they saw one of the patients there.”

“Is that so?” Peter queried, his gaze turning to Melissa, who was now avoiding his eyes, “Riddle me this. What reason would _my daughter_ have to be at a mental institution on Halloween night?”

A crackling noise sounded and Peter checked his phone connection; he still had all of his bars.

“Eddie, are you still there?”

“Yeah.” Eddie sounded annoyed, “The service here is terrible. But what I was trying to say is that one of the patients wasn’t in his room when I did my routine checkup.”

“ _Which_ patient, Eddie?” A vague memory of Jessica DiLaurentis crying into his arms about how cruel Kenneth was to their firstborn flashed through his mind, but Peter shook the thought out of his head. The last time Peter had asked about Charlie, Kenneth coldly told him that he had been sent to a boarding school in Pennsylvania, before admitting that the young boy had taken his life, too tormented to continue living.

The line went dead before Peter could get his answer. He turned to Melissa.

“That, was Radley Sanitarium.” Peter kept his tone calm. Melissa had never given him any trouble before, so it wouldn’t do to further agitate the situation with his own worries, “Are you going to tell me the truth about why you were there?”

Melissa stared at him in stony defiance, not saying a word.

“They said that you were contacting _a mental patient_ , Melissa.” Peter’s voice rose at his daughter’s silence, “Do you have _any_ idea how worried I was when I called your school, only for them to tell me that you weren’t there? That they hadn’t seen you since you left school after your last class?”

Melissa remained silent, but Peter could see an unidentifiable emotion in her eyes.

“Answer me, Melissa!”

At that, Melissa’s eyes sparkled in anger and she snapped.

“You don’t get it dad!” Melissa cried out, finally breaking her silence, “They’re keeping him there against his will just because he’s different! There’s _nothing_ , absolutely _nothing_ wrong with him and he doesn’t deserve to be –”

“Who are you talking –”

“Charlie, dad!” Melissa’s voice cracked with the intensity of her emotion. Tears were in her eyes, and Peter’s heart clenched painfully, “You remember Charlie, don’t you? The same little boy who I met at the museum? Who you babysat the day that Jessica DiLaurentis couldn’t be bothered to stand up against her intolerant excuse for a husband? _That_ Charlie, dad.”

Melissa took a deep breath to calm herself, wiping the tears out of her eyes in vain, as more welled up immediately. Peter took the opportunity to reflect on what he was hearing. Kenneth had told him that Charlie had committed suicide earlier that year, but here was his daughter – who was by no means delusional – telling him that the boy was alive and as well as one could be when unjustly locked up. One thing was for certain.

Peter trusted his daughter more than he ever would Kenneth DiLaurentis.

“You have to do _something_ , dad.” Melissa was saying, “You’re a lawyer. Mom’s a lawyer. Can’t you bring up a case against Charlie’s parents or something?”

Peter reflected on her question gravely. On the way to becoming one of the most successful lawyers in Pennsylvania, Peter had earned a few favors from higher-ups in the judicial system. Yet, he knew that if he were to even try to cross Kenneth in court, the blond man had more connections than he did. Even if Peter managed to bribe a few judges in his favor, he knew that all Kenneth would have to do was move the boy to a different asylum, and he would be forgotten forever. It was all a matter of connections, and Peter knew himself well enough to know that he just didn’t have enough of them to help Charlie.

He just didn’t want to let _Melissa_ know that.

Instead, he settled for a curt “There’s nothing I can do Melissa. I’m sorry.”

He knew that he sounded harsh, but it really was better for Melissa this way. This way, he didn’t have to get her hopes up for an overly optimistic ending that wasn’t entirely probable.

The anguished sound that came out of Melissa’s throat was one that would haunt Peter forever, and as she ran upstairs to her room, slamming the door behind her, Peter sighed.

“Is Melissa okay?” He heard Spencer’s voice ask meekly from behind him, “I heard her slam her door.”

Peter turned to Spencer and gave her a small smile. He thanked his lucky stars every day that she wasn’t old enough to be interested in _anyone_ romantically.

“She’s just had a bad day is all.” It technically wasn’t a lie, and Spencer bought it easier than Peter thought she would. At nine-years-old, she was eagerly following in her older sister’s footsteps, and the idea of it was heartwarming to Peter.

“I made a drawing for her in art class.” Spencer said quietly, and Peter only then noticed that his daughter was holding a piece of paper in her hand.

Peter placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and bring it to her?” Peter encouraged, knowing that however upset Melissa was, she’d always had a soft spot for her younger sister, “I’m sure it’ll make her feel a lot better.”

Spencer gave him a toothy grin and a hug before running up the stairs to Melissa’s room. With pursed lips, he took out his phone and dialed a number that he was ashamed to know by heart.

“Jessica, it’s Peter.” He said lowly, taking discreet glances at the stairs to make sure that none of his children were within earshot, “You need to do better with Charlie.”

He wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by _better_ , but he knew that something had to be done about the boy’s current condition. He didn’t know why the boy had been imprisoned in a mental asylum, and suspected that Melissa knew the reason but wasn’t willing to divulge much other than the fact that he was _different_ – whatever that meant.

He didn’t expect to get anywhere with Jessica, and wasn’t very surprised when she cut the conversation short, but was still disappointed nonetheless. He wanted to do more for Charlie, for _Melissa_ – who had developed some sort of affection for the boy, but he didn’t know what he could do.

As the months passed and Melissa brought Ian Thomas home to introduce him to Peter as her boyfriend, Peter noticed the superficial similarities between him and Charlie almost immediately. Blond hair. Bluish eyes. A confident demeanor. Peter had heard rumors about Ian’s reputation around Rosewood, – and was none too fond of Melissa’s choice in suitor – but as he shook the young man’s hand for the first time, it dawned on him.

Melissa, whether she was conscious of it or not, was using the man as a substitute for Charlie. She probably would never admit it to anyone, – much less to _herself_ – but Peter knew. He didn’t know _how_ he knew, but he just knew. Even as Ian was talking to him, Peter had one stubborn thought in his head:

 _Ian could never live up to the memory of Charlie, not to Melissa, and certainly not to him_.


	4. Prom

Peter Hastings didn’t like to imagine any of his daughters growing older. Not only did it signify that he himself was getting older, but it also meant that they were getting closer to not being his little girls anymore. This feeling was only cemented as he watched Melissa descend the stairs in her navy-blue prom dress, hair cascading down her back in elegant waves. As she approached him, Peter felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips.

“You look beautiful, pumpkin.” Peter grinned.

Melissa returned his smile and hugged him tightly. The flash of a camera startled the both of them.

“My baby.” Peter could hear Veronica coo as his wife pulled Melissa closer to her, cupping her cheeks in her palms, “You’re all grown up.”

Melissa rolled her eyes, though her expression denoted amusement rather than genuine annoyance.

“Thank you.”

As Veronica lifted her camera once more, Melissa’s eyes widened.

“ _Mom_.” She complained, “No more pictures.”

Veronica huffed in fake indignance.

“I’ve only taken _one_ so far.” She quipped, “I need about a thousand to remember this night. I need one with you and your father –”

“ _You already got one_.”

“One with him next to you, not hugging.”

“ _Mom –_ ”

“One with you and I –”

“ _Mom_ –”

“One with you and your sister –”

“ _Mom_!” Melissa yelped in exaggeration, crossing her arms as Veronica stared at her sheepishly.

Veronica cleared her throat.

“And one with you and Ian.” Veronica finished, her tone unrelenting, “At least let me have one with you and your date. I need something to show your future children when you finally have them.”

Both Peter’s and Melissa’s noses crinkled in disgust – Peter’s because he didn’t like to imagine his daughter doing _anything_ that could result in pregnancy, and Melissa’s because…actually, Peter wasn’t entirely sure why she seemed appalled by the thought of having children with Ian. He initially thought that her relationship with Ian was merely a phase for getting over Charlie, but when their relationship lasted for more than a few weeks, Peter had simply figured that Melissa was over Charlie.

Maybe he was wrong.

Soon after Veronica had gotten all of the pictures that she craved, Ian arrived. His black tuxedo and navy-blue tie complimented Melissa’s attire well, a fact that Peter grudgingly admitted to himself.

“I promise I’ll take good care of her tonight, Mr. Hastings.” Ian smirked. Peter narrowed his eyes, “Or can I start calling you dad now.”

“ _Ian_.” Melissa scolded before Peter raised a hand, calming her.

He stuck out his hand for Ian to shake, and when the young blond man returned the gesture, Peter gave him a smile that caused Ian’s own grin to retreat.

“Why don’t you give Ian and I a chance to talk?” Peter wasn’t asking, and Melissa knew better than to question her father, guiding her mother towards the kitchen.

The atmosphere became tense once the women had left, leaving only Peter and Ian in the living room. Peter had yet to let go of Ian’s hand, and the young man – though he tried to appear nonchalant – was showing the first glimmer of fear in his eyes.

“Mr. Hastings, you’re still holding onto my –”

Peter cut the man’s statement off with a harsh tug, bringing him closer to him. Hand tightened and eyes narrowed, Peter was _certain_ that he looked every bit the terror-inducing lawyer he strove to be.

“Now you listen here.” Peter said sternly, tightening his grip on Ian’s hand ever so slightly, using his head to gesture towards the area in which Melissa had gone, “That’s my _daughter_ you’re taking to prom tonight. My first born. One of the prides and joys of my life. If you even _think_ about dishonoring her in _any_ way tonight, I will end you.”

The look of horror Ian awarded him with gave Peter a surge of pride in his own ability to frighten. Perhaps it would come in handy when Spencer brought home a love interest in the future.

“Understood?”

Ian nodded swiftly and Peter let go of his hand, calling for Melissa.

“Understood.” Ian said quietly.

As Melissa and Veronica entered the room, with the former posing with her boyfriend for pictures for the latter, Peter smiled to himself. He felt confident in his ability to keep Ian Thomas in line.

“Have fun you two.” Peter smiled wickedly, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist as Melissa and Ian made their way towards the front door, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

* * *

As the night winded down, Veronica got tired while waiting for Melissa to come home, so Peter encouraged her to go to sleep, giving her a gentle smile.

“I’ll wait up for her, Ronnie.” Peter said softly, mindful of the late hour of night, “It’s my job as her father to scare Ian some more when he brings her home.”

Veronica rolled her eyes but nevertheless gave Peter a quick kiss on the cheek, thanking him before retiring for the evening.

* * *

Peter didn’t know when he had started to nod off, but became abruptly alert when he heard the door open. He sat up in the armchair he had napped in, taking note of the fact that Melissa had finally come home. He checked his watch – 9:37pm. Considering the fact that prom had started at 8 and was scheduled to end around midnight, Melissa was home really early. He noticed one thing immediately – Ian was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Ian?” Peter stretched as he stood up to greet his daughter, who – he now noticed – looked pretty irate.

Melissa scoffed bitterly, and Peter was taken aback by her response.

“Probably still with the girl whose throat he was sticking his tongue down.”

Melissa made to go to her room, but Peter caught her wrist gently, prompting her to spin around to face him. Peter took note of her tense body language, and with every passing second, the urge to make good on his halfhearted promise to kill Ian was getting stronger and stronger.

“What happened tonight, pumpkin?”

Melissa paused for a moment, looking around before hugging her father tightly. Peter immediately wrapped his arms around her. He was soon aware of the fact that she was crying, as evidenced by her shaking. That only prompted him to hug her tighter.

“I thought I could make this work, daddy.” Melissa’s voice was muffled by the fabric of Peter’s nightshirt, but Peter could still hear her loud and clear, “When he asked me out, I thought I could turn over a new leaf. I thought that I could forget –”

He could feel Melissa wince in his arms, and knew instantly who she was referring to.

_She thought that she could have used Ian to forget Charlie_.

The message was clear to Peter, but he knew his daughter well enough to know that she wouldn’t openly admit it to him.

Before Peter could say anything more, Melissa pulled away from him, wiping her eyes furiously.

“I think I should go to bed now.” She said quietly, slowly backing away from him towards the stairs, “Thanks for listening.”

As Peter was left alone in the living room with his thoughts, he ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what he could do to help Melissa, and the feeling of helplessness was one that he loathed. He would give that girl the _world_ if he could, and it hurt him that the one thing – or rather, _person_ – that she wanted was unattainable to her. He sat down in his armchair once more, this time with a feeling of heaviness, and was determined to give Melissa her space.

* * *

After a while, Peter stood up once more, ready to retire for the night. By this point, it was almost midnight, and he had a busy day to prepare for, full of paperwork.

On the way to his own room, he passed by Melissa’s. Upon noticing that it was slightly ajar, he made his way in, wanting to speak with Melissa once more before leaving the matters of the night alone for good.

“Melissa?” He called softly, but soon realized that she was asleep.

He made his way over to her and leaned down, pressing a paternal kiss to her forehead. She shifted a bit in her sleep, but made no other indication of having woke up. As he moved to leave the room, an envelope at the foot of her bed caught his attention. She must have dropped it as she drifted off to sleep. When Peter picked it up, he noticed two words on the lone, thick envelope that stopped him in his tracks – _Radley Sanitarium_. He knew that he should just put the envelope down and leave the room, but curiosity got the best of him.

He opened the envelope and was startled when a multitude of papers fell out. He looked over to Melissa to see if the rustling had woken her. _It hadn’t_. He carefully picked up the first of the many papers, reading it quietly to himself. It was dated from about a month after Melissa had first gotten together with Ian:

_Dear Charlie,_

_I haven’t been able to see you since I came to Radley with Ezra. That nurse, Eddie Lamb, knows my father and consequently, I’m always escorted out every time I try to visit._

_I’m in a relationship with Ian Thomas now. I don’t know why I feel the need to tell you this, but here I am. He’s one of Jason’s friends, and he’s kind of stupid, but still, I agreed to date him. If you were here, you probably could have talked me out of it._

_He’s blond, and had blue eyes. His eyes kind of reminded me of your gray-blue ones, in hindsight. Maybe you would’ve liked him. Maybe you wouldn’t. I’m honestly not sure._

_If you were here, you’d probably be so popular at school. Who wouldn’t like you? You’re handsome, smart, kind, humorous, and the best chess player I’ve ever known. ~~Anyone would be lucky to date you. I know I would be.~~_

At seeing the crossed-out part, Peter stopped reading, feeling invasive. He couldn’t, in good faith, continue reading Melissa’s letters, and yet, one last letter caught his attention. One that was addressed to Melissa:

_Melissa,_

_You’ll never understand how glad I was that your friend – Ezra, was it? – thought it was a good idea to come to Radley on Halloween night. If you hadn’t come, and I hadn’t had the urge to leave my room that night, we never would have seen each other, and the thought of just barely missing you brings me great sorrow._

_I hope that this letter reaches you safely. If anything, I just want you to know that I have **never** forgotten you, and I never will._

_Please don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. I know you have a tendency of over worrying – remember that time at the museum, when you almost threatened to have your father sue the establishment because the tools at the “Big Dig” weren’t as sharp as you would’ve liked? I do, and the memory never fails to bring a smile to my face._

_I know that you’ve probably moved on with your life, and I wouldn’t blame you – you’re the normal one of the two of us after all – but I want you to know that all I want for you is to be happy._

_I have never understood all the romantic gestures that adults work themselves into a frazzle for, but meeting you gives me a better understanding._

_With all the love in the world,_

_Charlie_

As Peter finished reading the letter, he felt a lone tear roll down his cheek. It was evident to him now that Charlie’s letter had been the first sign of correspondence between the two, and the rest of Melissa’s letters were vain attempts to respond. Every single one of her responses had been returned to sender, and Peter’s heart broke for his elder daughter. By now, he was certain that the two were kindred souls who were just trying to communicate with one another, and it caused Peter despair to know that there was virtually nothing he could do to help them.

With a heavy heart and a sigh, Peter put all of the letters back in the envelope, placing them on the nightstand beside Melissa’s bed before leaving her room. If anything, she would just think that she had put the letters on the stand herself before falling asleep.

As he got into bed with Veronica, draping a lazy arm around her waist, she shifted in her sleep.

“Is everything alright?” Veronica murmured sleepily.

_No_ , Peter wanted to tell her, _everything isn’t alright_. Their daughter was experiencing heartbreak, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Instead of responding, he pulled his wife closer to him, relishing in the fact that she went to sleep quickly. As he closed his own eyes, torturous thoughts raced through his head.

Just as Melissa was unable to completely let go of the memory of Charlie, Peter realized that he couldn’t either. It was as if their fates had been intertwined by some mysterious force, and Peter knew that his life would never be the same.


	5. College

Peter Hastings couldn’t have been more relieved when he found out that Melissa had broken up with Ian. The young man was never good enough for her anyways, and Peter gagged at the thought of him becoming his future son-in-law, as well as the father of his future grandchild. He was just glad that Melissa got out of the relationship when she did. Now, she could focus on attending the prestigious University of Pennsylvania – the Hastings family alma mater – and getting a respectable degree. There would be no distractions whatsoever, no more surprises for Peter.

What Peter didn’t count on, however, was the idea of Melissa bringing a girl home to him her sophomore year of college.

Well, if Peter were being honest, she didn’t _exactly_ bring a girl home to him and introduce her to him as her girlfriend. As far as Peter was concerned, Melissa wasn’t romantically interested in _anyone_ , not after Ian, and certainly not after Charlie. Still, Peter got a distinct feeling of nostalgia when Melissa brought her friend from UPenn home for a brief visit.

“This is my… _friend_ from school.” Melissa introduced, her hand never leaving her female friend’s, “Her name is Charlotte.”

As Peter took in Charlotte’s features, his brain went into overdrive. Blonde hair and clear gray-blue eyes, this woman was the aesthetic opposite of Melissa, and yet, they seemed to fit perfectly standing together in Peter’s living room. He racked his brain, trying to recall why this woman seemed so familiar to him. It wasn’t every day that Melissa brought home a friend – scratch that, she _never_ brought home friends – and Peter couldn’t help but be curious about his daughter’s new acquaintance.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Peter shook Charlotte’s hand gently, making his features inviting, “I’m Melissa’s father, Peter, but I’m sure she’s already mentioned that.”

Charlotte gave him a wide grin and shook his hand heartily. Her eyes sparkled, and her smile was infectious. He could see why Melissa had gravitated towards her. She certainly seemed like a charismatic woman.

“It’s so nice to meet you, _Mr. Peter_.” Charlotte’s tone was light and airy.

At hearing how she addressed him, Peter momentarily froze. _Mr. Peter?_ Generally, the friends of his children referred to him as “Mr. Hastings,” but here was Charlotte, who he was just meeting, calling him a name that only one person in the world had _ever_ called him.

The memory of Charlie played throughout Peter’s mind, and Peter felt as if he was missing something crucial that ought to have been transparent to him. Regardless, before he could get too caught up in his thoughts, Melissa’s voice resonated within his ears.

“We’re just gonna go up to my room to study.” Melissa looked briefly at Charlotte – as if confirming whether or not her plan of action was alright with her – before facing Peter, “We’ll be down in time for dinner.”

Without waiting for Peter’s response, Melissa led Charlotte up to her room, never once letting go of her hand, leaving Peter to wonder why the blonde-haired woman seemed _so_ familiar.

* * *

Spencer was at one of Alison’s sleepovers, and Veronica had gone to visit her mother, who was recovering from one of her many fainting spells. She had insisted that she could handle it alone, hence why Peter was left alone to look after the girls.

It was for this reason that on the day Melissa brought Charlotte home to him, he was the only Hastings in the household aside from Melissa. As his stomach grumbled, he set about looking after dinner. Nothing too fancy, just chicken calamari and a side of salad. He knew that he wasn’t the _best_ chef in the world, but he had _some_ faith in his cooking abilities. He just hoped that Charlotte and Melissa felt the same way.

As he made his way to Melissa’s room, intent on getting the two teenagers downstairs for dinner, a sudden memory plagued his senses.

_He remembered being in Jessica’s house around two years ago. She was lonely and had begged him to come over, as her husband had taken their two children out of town. Despite his torrid history with Jessica, Peter was determined not to let anything immoral happen between the two of them. They already had Jason as a reminder of their shared past._

_He remembered Jessica walking around her living room, glass of red wine in hand, rambling about any and everything. He knew that she hadn’t really expected him to listen, but was just comforted by the idea of not being alone in her Stepfordian home._

_A shattered, framed picture caught his attention from its place on the ground, one of a blonde-haired girl just about Melissa’s age. Her gray-blue irises were gleaming beautifully in the sunlight, her hair being blown slightly by the apparent breeze that surrounded her. Her dimples were showing, and Peter was momentarily brought back to a time when his own elder daughter was carefree._

_“Who is this, Jessica?” Peter raised the photograph in Jessica’s direction, being mindful of the glass shards that remained lodged within the frame. It was evident that the picture was a casualty of Jessica’s inexplicably fragile mental state._

_His former lover traipsed lazily over to him, the arm she draped around his shoulders being an indication of her state of tipsiness. Her dark blue eyes scanned the picture, and Peter read the emotion in her eyes as one of a melancholic caliber._

_“My beautiful daughter.” Jessica murmured, gently caressing the face of the girl in the photograph, “She’s pretty, isn’t she? Her name is Charlotte. Chose the name herself even.”_

_Peter, in the moment, dismissed what she was saying as the ramblings of a slightly drunk woman. He was aware of the fact that Jessica only had one daughter, and perhaps, she had taken this young woman as a substitute for her son, who – incidentally – was named Charles, the masculine version of Charlotte._

_“Jessica, you’re tipsy.” Peter led her over to the couch, beckoning her to sit down on it with him, never once letting go of the photograph of the enigmatic young woman._

_Jessica sat up abruptly, as if aware of what exactly she’d just told Peter. Peter couldn’t understand why she was acting so skittish, when just a moment ago, she was calm. When she snorted bitterly, Peter was taking aback by the hurt look in her eyes, yet something told him that it wasn’t being directed at him._

_“This is my **niece** , Charlotte.” Jessica clarified, her voice low and desolate, “I sometimes forget that myself. She’s like a daughter to me, you know? I just wish that…things could be different, you know? Sometimes, I wish I’d made better decisions in the past.”_

_Peter couldn’t understand why Jessica was being so reflective all of a sudden, and instead of questioning it any further, attributed it to the many drinks of wine she’d had before and after he’d arrived at her home._

_“I’m sorry, Peter.” And Peter didn’t know what she was apologizing for. It could be for nothing; it could be everything, but the fact of the matter was that he didn’t know. The mood between them had suddenly gotten so somber, and the intensity of it was stifling._

_Jessica had, by then, leaned onto Peter’s shoulder, effectively making him her temporary pillow, and as Peter held onto her tightly, determined to give her **some** form of comfort, the photograph that started this whole conversation never left his mind._

At the time, Peter hadn’t thought much about Jessica’s slip-up with regards to Charlotte. Aunts were likely to think of their nieces as their own daughters sometimes, a testament to their strong emotional bond. Still, that didn’t explain why Jessica took so long to correct herself, and the more Peter dwelled on the fact, the more his mind brought him towards the only conclusion that made sense:

_Charlotte **was** Charlie._

Peter didn’t understand all of the main facts behind the revelation, but there was no longer any doubt in his mind that they were the same person. The mannerisms were just too similar, as was his daughter’s behavior around her. Melissa, having never been the type to make friends easily, had only really been close to Charlie as a young child, and as she approached her adult life, Charlie – _now Charlotte_ – was the only person who Melissa really clicked with.

Peter supposed that this was what Melissa meant when she told him that her childhood friend was _different_.

* * *

“This food is really good, Mr. Peter.” Charlotte praised, breaking the silence that the trio had been in prior to her remarks, “Best chicken calamari I’ve _ever_ had.”

Peter gave her a warm smile.

“Thank you, Charlotte.”

Melissa looked back and forth between Peter and Charlotte, as if anxiously hoping that the two of them would get along. Peter vaguely remembered Melissa looking at him the same way when she’d brought Ian home. He cleared his throat.

“So, Charlotte.” Peter began, resting his fork delicately on his plate as he gave the blonde-haired woman his full attention, “How long have you known my daughter?”

If Melissa was surprised by his line of inquiry, the only indication of it was the slight raise of her eyebrows. Charlotte, on the other, appeared confounded, and the sound of her tapping foot became audible. The question had obviously unnerved her.

“It feels as if I’ve known her all my life, sir.” Charlotte answered honestly, taking solace in the way that Melissa reached over to hold her hand, above the table, and in full view of Peter’s dark green eyes, “Ever since I’ve known her, she’s always been there for me.”

Charlotte paused.

“I’ve never had to put up a façade in front of her.”

Peter smiled at her answer. He didn’t expect her to address the fact that she had, in fact, known Melissa for many years. He knew that dealing with gender identity could be a fairly petrifying experience, and considering the fact that the blonde had Kenneth DiLaurentis for a father, he didn’t expect her to trust very many people.

Still, Peter felt obligated to let the blonde know, in no uncertain terms, that he had always accepted her for who she was. He noticed that his daughter was lightly caressing the blonde’s hand with her thumb, eyes never leaving her. He internally smiled at the affection he was certain that his daughter was doing instinctively.

“Well, I’m here to let you know that you never have to put up a… _façade_ around me.” Peter took Charlotte’s other hand in his, trying to be a comforting force for her, “You didn’t have to when you were a child, and you certainly don’t have to do it now.”

The tapping of Charlotte’s foot ceased immediately. Both Charlotte and his daughter froze, turning to look at Peter – Melissa with concern in her eyes, and Charlotte with panic. He noticed Charlotte’s cheeks reddening rapidly, and the tell-tale sign of tears bubbled up in her eyes.

“You… _know_?” Charlotte didn’t have to clarify.

“I do.” Peter didn’t see any point in lying, “And I accept you unconditionally, as my unofficial third daughter.”

A pin drop could be heard, and the tears that had emerged in Charlotte’s eyes had run over, leaving various trails on her cheeks. Of all the responses Charlotte could have had to Peter’s words, Peter was slightly caught off guard when he was suddenly being engulfed in a hug, courtesy of the blonde.

“ _Thank you_.” Charlotte’s voice sounded choked with emotion, and the gesture alone prompted Peter to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. He spared a glance at Melissa, and wasn’t surprised to see her dark orbs staring up at him. No words needed to be said. He knew that his acceptance of Charlotte had subconsciously taken a huge weight off of Melissa’s own shoulders.

* * *

“Mr. Peter, after everything, I couldn’t possibly impose myself upon you.” Charlotte was wringing her hands sheepishly. She was attempting to politely turn down Peter’s offer to stay the night. After the emotional ordeal that was dinner, Peter was inclined to offer his home to Charlotte for the night, determined to let the blonde be in a safe, welcoming environment, if even for a short period of time. Still, the blonde was hesitant to accept.

“I must insist.” Peter said firmly, “Anyone who can bring such joy to my daughter’s life is welcome in my house _anytime_.”

Peter didn’t miss the way Melissa’s cheeks reddened at his words. He’d _definitely_ be having a conversation with her about her blatantly obvious crush on the blonde, but for now, the conversation could wait.

“You could even stay in my room.” Melissa said hurriedly, cringing at how eager she’d sounded, “I mean, if the guest room’s too formal for you…”

She let her words trail off, biting her bottom lip in apparent embarrassment. Peter allowed a smug grin to appear on his features at his daughter’s uncharacteristic bashfulness. Charlotte appeared to be thinking on the same wavelength as him, as she looped an arm through Melissa’s, beaming.

“Well, if you both _insist_.” Charlotte acquiesced before turning to Peter. Her gray-blue eyes sparkled in gratitude, and Peter was grateful to give the blonde woman some peace of mind, no matter how temporary, “Thanks again, Mr. Peter.”

* * *

Peter let out a loud yawn, finally ready to retreat to bed. It had been a long, emotional day, and Peter needed all the rest he could get for a busy day at the firm the next day.

As he passed by Melissa’s room, he peeked his head in, intending to bid both Melissa and Charlotte goodnight. Upon looking, he noticed that Charlotte was curled into Melissa’s side, an arm draped across her stomach, a slightly ajar book just barely within her finger’s grasp. It was evident that Charlotte had fallen asleep while reading.

What especially caught Peter’s attention was the tender way Melissa was stroking Charlotte’s hair as the blonde slumbered, taking care not to wake the blonde. Her position on the bed was obviously one intended to make the blonde as comfortable as possible.

Once Melissa noticed her father lurking in the doorway, yet another blush darkened her cheeks. Peter’s paternal side was deeply amused by just how flustered the blonde could make his daughter, even while asleep. As Melissa opened her mouth, perhaps to explain, Peter raised a finger to his lips before pointing at Charlotte.

“Careful, she’s sleeping.” Peter whispered, a knowing smile on his face as he walked out of his elder daughter’s bedroom.

* * *

Later that night, when Peter had finally gotten settled in his own bed, he reminisced on the events of the night. Despite all odds, Melissa had found her way back to Charlotte. It was refreshingly easy for Peter to think of her as Charlotte, an enigmatic blonde woman who had earned the affection of his oldest daughter, as opposed to Charlie, a boy who she had never been.

When the sandman came to visit Peter that night, he greeted him with a smile, satisfied in the knowledge that Melissa was no longer just _settling_ for anyone. Though Charlotte hadn’t been introduced to Peter as Melissa’s girlfriend, Peter knew that there was a distinctly non-platonic air about the two.


	6. New Beginnings

Peter Hastings had known for a while that Melissa was visiting Charlotte DiLaurentis at Welby. Considering all the _A_ text messages and the torment that his younger daughter, Spencer, had endured at the hands of Charlotte, he wasn’t sure of what to make of Melissa’s continued relationship with the blonde. He was well aware of the fact that his elder daughter made it a point to visit Charlotte multiple times a week. As a matter of fact, she had even gone as far as to _confirm_ the fact when he had confronted her about it.

“You can’t change where my loyalties lie.” Melissa had once informed him heatedly before leaving the Hastings abode, no doubt on her way to visit Charlotte.

Is that really what she thought he was trying to do? Of all the things Peter would’ve wanted to do, _changing_ his daughter was the last thing he ever imagined. He had known that Melissa had harbored some form of affection for Charlotte all these years, but what he really and truly wanted to know was where the blonde woman’s intentions were.

Maybe that’s what possessed him to visit Welby early one Thursday morning.

Through his own investigation skills, he knew that visiting hours at Welby started at 8. With the knowledge that Melissa got off of work at 9, he figured that he had a good hour’s worth of conversation to look forward to.

“If you’ll just sign this, Mr. Hastings.” Dr. Sullivan requested kindly, handing Peter a sign-in sheet after he had arrived, inquiring about visiting patients, “We like to keep an accurate record of everyone that visits.”

It was refreshing to know that Dr. Sullivan was still working to help people psychologically. Peter would never forget the countless therapy sessions that she had hosted for Spencer and her friends after the _A_ debacle ended, and he would be forever grateful.

“I can’t say that I was expecting you to be willing to visit Charlotte.” Dr. Sullivan told him on the way to Charlotte’s room, her voice echoing off the walls of the institution, “None of the parents of the other girls have tried. Quite frankly, I think her only visitors are Alison, Jason, and your daughter.”

Peter didn’t need Dr. Sullivan to clarify which daughter of his she was speaking of. The paternal part of him felt an ache in his chest at how few visitors Charlotte was receiving. He knew all too well how heinous her past actions were, but she was still only human, and it was human nature to crave human contact. The idea that the rest of the world was content with leaving her to her solitude left him feeling uncomfortable.

So lost in his thoughts, Peter didn’t notice when they reached their destination until Dr. Sullivan gave him a tentative tap on the shoulder. Her brown eyes expressed warmth, and she was giving him a soft smile.

“Everyone heals at their own progress.” Dr. Sullivan told him, “And she’s doing remarkably well considering everything.”

Dr. Sullivan paused, as if she was scrutinizing Peter before she continued.

“I think your daughter’s been a great help.”

With that, Dr. Sullivan left Peter to his musings, alone outside of Charlotte’s door. He wasn’t sure exactly what the protocol was, so he settled for a simple knock before letting himself in. Upon entering, he was taken aback by the multiple shelves of books that lined the walls. Not all of them were in English, and a majority of them seemed to be of the nonfiction genre. Charlotte, herself, was sitting with her back facing him at a desk, a book in hand.

“Melissa, I wasn’t expecting you so –” Charlotte started as she turned around, freezing as she came face to face with Peter. Her eyes widened, and her shock was evident in her suddenly stiff body language, “Mr. Peter. I didn’t think I’d see you.”

Much had changed since the last time he saw Charlotte – Peter could admit to that freely – but a small part of Peter’s heart warmed at the “Mr. Peter” greeting. Some things never changed. Still, his features remained impassive. He gestured to the small stool that stood alone in one corner of the room.

“May I?”

Charlotte was quick to nod, and Peter dragged the stool across the room until he was arm’s length away from Charlotte, only then choosing to take a seat. The silence between the two of them was thick, but Peter’s legal training made him at ease in such a situation. Charlotte, on the other hand, looked as if she’d rather be anywhere than sitting across from him, which was understandable. Her eyes remained slightly wide, but Peter’s eyes were drawn to her hands, which periodically trembled.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Charlotte.” Peter broke the silence, his eyes raising to meet hers.

Charlotte’s eyes flickered, and Peter saw a brief flash of annoyance across her features before they became as impassive as his. What she was annoyed at, Peter couldn’t tell. At once, Charlotte’s hands stopped shaking, and she sat up straight in her chair.

“I’m not.” Charlotte declared quietly.

There was silence once more, and Peter wondered when their relationship had deteriorated to the point that their silence was more awkward than amicable. It appeared that Charlotte thought the same thing, but she merely sighed.

“Why did you visit me, Mr. Peter?” Charlotte sounded tired, “You have no reason to. Haven’t I done enough to your family?”

Her tone was self-deprecating and slightly biting, but Peter knew the tactic well. If she verbally beat herself up, it provided enough of a backbone for her to be able to withstand anything Peter could possibly say to her. Nevertheless, Peter frowned.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Charlotte.” He said firmly, “You did some very… _damaging_ things to the people I love, but I understand that you need help. I don’t hate you.”

Of all the reactions that Charlotte could’ve had to his words, Peter wasn’t expecting for her to start laughing. His questioning look only made her laugh harder.

“Do you have _any_ idea,” Charlotte laughed bitterly, tears pooling in her gray-blue eyes, “how _long_ I’ve waited for my own father to say something that comforting to me? Any idea how long he left me in Radley to rot just because I wasn’t the son he’d always wanted? _Any_ idea how much worse his treatment of me got when he found out that Jason wasn’t his?”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t sure if the last one was a jab at him, but he was determined not to let her words negatively affect him. They were coming from a place of deep hurt, and years of parenting taught him that it was often cathartic to let people express themselves.

“And now you just _stroll_ in here to tell me that you actually _understand_ where I’m coming from?” Charlotte’s tone was borderline incredulous, and instead of trembling, her hands were clenched into tight fists, “That you don’t hate the monster that I’ve become?”

Peter grabbed her hands gently, unfolding them. It was only then that he noticed just how hard her grip had been. Half-moon crescents littered her palms, and it was both a shock and relief to him that she hadn’t drawn any blood.

“Listen to me, Charlotte.” Peter forced his tone to be calm. It wouldn’t do to have the both of them fully anxious, “You are _not_ a monster. A monster wouldn’t have given up _the game_ like you did. A monster wouldn’t be trying to get better. I _know_ you, alright? And the person that I know isn’t a monster.”

Charlotte didn’t wrench her hands away from Peter’s, but the dark look in her eyes gave him pause. Beneath the darkness was a vulnerability that was longing to be soothed.

“You haven’t really known me for a long time, Mr. Peter.” Charlotte mused, her features now blank. Her words weren’t accusatory, but Peter understood that she was trying to prevent him from getting too involved in what she probably deemed as _her problem_. She didn’t realize that by this point, she _was_ his concern too.

He knew that he had to choose his words carefully in the wake of her deafening silence.

“You call yourself a monster.” Peter started gently, keeping his tone low, “But a monster isn’t capable of loving anyone.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened again, as if she knew where his line of thought was.

“Do you mean to tell me that your feelings for my daughter were all insincere?” Peter knew that he was treading a thin line, but he _had_ to get to her somehow, “That you never really loved my daughter?”

The flash in Charlotte’s eyes denoted her ire, and a scowl appeared on her face.

“My feelings for Melissa should _never_ be doubted.” Charlotte declared sternly, “My love for her has never been –”

Charlotte stopped herself at the smile that had appeared on Peter’s face, all the anger in her features melting away into a sheepish look. She had finally caught on.

“Monsters can’t love.” Charlotte echoed quietly, and Peter nodded in affirmation.

“And you love my daughter?”

“More than _anything_.”

Charlotte studied Peter carefully, looking for something that Peter wasn’t sure of. After a while, she sighed.

“Why are you so… _accepting_ about all of this?”

Peter could tell that she wasn’t just talking about the _A_ thing.

“Truthfully, if there’s anything I’ve learned throughout all of this, it’s that everyone deserves a chance in this world.” Peter explained, squeezing Charlotte’s hand in a comforting manner, “You make my daughter happy, and that’s all I could’ve ever wanted for her… _for the both of you_.”

Charlotte bit her lip as tears re-entered her eyes, only this time, they were tears of relief instead of distress. She seemed to be internally warring about something.

“Can I…hug you?”

Charlotte’s voice was so small – so _desolate_ – that Peter didn’t give it a second thought before engulfing her in a hug, holding her tightly to him as if she were one of his own, which – he supposed – after all of this, she may as well have been.

“I got off of work early, so I thought I’d just… _dad_?” The sound of Melissa’s voice prompted the two to break their hug, turning to look at the brunette who had just entered the room, “What are you doing here?”

Peter looked at Charlotte briefly before turning to Melissa, a teasing smile on his face.

“Just visiting my future daughter-in-law.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

His teasing was made worth it by the blush that now donned Melissa’s cheeks, complimented by Charlotte’s amused laughter. She rolled her eyes soon after and pulled up a chair next to the two of them, resting her handbag on the nearby desk. The look of adoration that Melissa gave Charlotte, followed by the lingering kiss on her cheek didn’t escape Peter’s notice.

Reflecting on how the morning had gone, Peter deemed it safe to say that he had gotten an answer to his years-long curiosity. Yes, Melissa was in fact in love with Charlotte DiLaurentis, not merely _in like_ , but what pleased him the most was his newfound revelation.

Charlotte DiLaurentis was in love with Melissa Hastings as well, and that was an idea that would lead to a bright future for all involved.


End file.
